


The Choice

by direful



Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Jagers, Mad Science, Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 08:23:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16404797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/direful/pseuds/direful
Summary: Another making jägers fic, because there's always room in the fandom for one more. This has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, so please take it.





	The Choice

The Lord Heterodyne offered them the choice after careful consideration. He had come to each of them in person, after battles, at the barracks, at their posts, and taken them aside and offered them the choice that was not a choice at all, the choice that was the greatest honor for any of his soldiers. The choice to become a jägermonster.

Most had been riding with the jägers for years, and were already accepted by the Heterodyne’s most valued creations. Now, they had the chance to become one of them in truth, to join the monsters they had already fought beside and serve their masters with the same burning devotion. They were already fiercely loyal, and it was no question when the Heterodyne asked. Each and every one of them had accepted his offer on the spot.

Kasimir was no exception. He was a soldier from one of the nearby villages that fell close enough to Mechanicsburg to be considered an extension of the city. He’d come to Mechanicsburg when he was a boy, just another young man hoping to join the army instead of pursue a trade or work on the family farm. He’d spent years of his life serving the Heterodynes, deeply in loyalty with them like the rest of their minions, and had distinguished himself enough to ride with the jägers in their past campaigns. Now he stood together with a score of his fellows, the best soldiers that the Heterodyne’s army had to offer, ready to face the hardest fight of their lives. Their Heterodyne had offered them the choice to become something greater than they were. Now, they had to earn it.

Kasimir thought back to that night, weeks prior, when he knelt on one knee with his comrades in front of their Lord to swear the Jägertroth. They were deep in the catacombs, among the bones of the Heterodynes of the past, surrounded by the history of the bloodiest family in Europa. The family they would gladly serve for an eternity, if they survived the Bräu. The Heterodyne had been majestic, lit by a dim, ruddy light that cast towering shadows against the bones, and his voice had echoed ominously in the cavernous tombs.

“I am the Heterodyne, and I offer you a place in my service at the cost of your humanity. You will guard my home and my people, and fight at my side, and serve me, and my children, and their children’s children, for all the days of your life. You will keep our secrets and our lands, and fight for us until you can fight no more. You will be our most loyal creations. And in return, I, and my children, and their children’s children, swear to care for you, to keep you safe, and to keep your secrets. I am the Heterodyne, and you will be mine. Do you so swear?”

“By the Dyne, we so swear this troth.”

Their voices had echoed then too, resounding as one in the darkness before they filed out to fill the torchlit streets of Mechanicsburg. It had turned into a night of celebration after that, the new not-yet-jägers quickly tackled by their monstrous comrades and dragged away to find a drink. The Heterodyne had set to work making their batch of the Jägerbräu that night, and it was ready for them now. _Now_.

Kasimir and the others were gathered deep within the Castle, a score of men ready to live or die for the chance to honor their oath. The Heterodyne led them down into the depths himself, where they would be tested and the lucky few would shed their humanity. Kasimir was nervous, the kind of nervousness that chews at the stomach and makes the heart race, but he was kept grounded by his fellows around him. He knew they were all just as nervous, though none would admit it. They were all honored to be here, the weight of their oath weighing on them as they shifted in the gloom, lit only by the crackling electricity arcing overhead and the otherworldly glow of the Dyne. Here, at the heart of the Heterodyne’s secrets, their fates would be decided.

The Bräu was there in front of them. Each would have to take it for themselves. To back out when faced with what lay ahead was no shame, but each man stepped forward and took his cup, one by one without failing, until it was Kasimir’s turn. He reached out his hand, and lifted the cup from the plinth where it sat. It was aged bone, worn smooth by countless hands grasping it before. How many had drunk from it and perished in agony? How few had survived its contents and risen, changed into something new?

He stepped backwards, back into the line of men waiting their turn, and contemplated what it was he held in his hands. The liquid inside shifted, turning gold in the firelight, then red as blood, then black like tar. A bubble popped on the surface. A subtle heat from the contents had permeated the cup, lending a pleasant warmth to the bone. The last man took his cup. Kasimir’s grip tightened, and he felt his heart rise into his throat, pounding wildly. This was it.

The Heterodyne nodded and in one unified motion, the men raised the cups to their lips. There was no turning back now. Immediately it was like swallowing fire, a blazing heat that quickly consumed from the inside out. There was no taste to it, just an intensity like ozone and iron. Like licking a live wire. Kasimir gasped. His heart was beating painfully fast inside his chest, and he could hear the frantic drumbeat echo in his head. The fire engulfed him, and he could do nothing but embrace it. He became aware that his knees had buckled and he had fallen to the ground, and that distantly, someone was screaming. He had the vague notion that it might be him.

Some time later, he slowly regained consciousness. His cheek was pressed against the mercifully cool stone floor, and he could hear the ragged breathing of whoever else had survived. He had no idea how much time had passed, it seemed like seconds and weeks all at once. But that didn’t really matter, did it? Things were different now. _He_ was different. He raised a hand and - yes, there were claws, and skin the dull green that was common among Jägers. It struck him that he truly was a creation of the Heterodynes now, and the thought brought a comforting warmth with it. Yes, he thought, he had made the right choice.

**Author's Note:**

> I may go back and change the Troth around. It needs more ... Heterodyne-ness. They take care of what's theirs, you know? I feel like that doesn't come across as strongly as it could. But otherwise, this is FINALLY done!
> 
> I intended the Old Heterodyne to be Robur, but I realized it would be more effective to leave him ambiguous. If I make this a series about Kasimir I'll clear that up in the next installment.


End file.
